Tag Archives: Sapolil

I'm a (crazy batshit nuts) rockstar, baby!

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In which my weekend was one part really good… and one part REALLY bad.

Friday was nasty. Whoo boy. Out of the blue I had a panic attack for the first time in a really long time and it sucked. And all because my heart decided to go arrhythmic. I sat at my desk in my own private hell and waited for the day to end so I could go home and curl up in my room in my misery.

The Dread continued on Saturday. I walked the dog and did laundry and cleaned the front bathroom, but was in and out of anxiety all day long. There were a few bouts of scary arrhythmia that pushed me from anxiety into full-blown panic.

Saturday night, I had a gig to go to. In spite of feeling like shit I took a shower and got dressed and went because I’m tough like that. Somewhere between the second and third sets I had a moment of pure terror, certain that this was it, it was finally happening, I was having a heart attack… but I didn’t pass out. I didn’t even fall over, actually. So I reminded myself yet again that the problem was actually my panic disorder and not some kind of actual physical malady and soldiered on out the door, which was where I’d been heading when my skin lit on fire for a second.

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I'm a Rockstar, Baby

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In which there’s a recap of my weekend, with links to Flickr pix.

Friday night after work I went bowling with the boys. I bowled a kick-ass first game with a final score of 143: that’s over twenty pins higher than my average! W00t. That’s rockstar-style bowling, peeps.

Saturday I had an appointment with my stylist at 2 PM to get new rockstar hair. Sound check was at 3:30. Plenty of time, right? Wrong! The woman colored my hair, did two hair cuts, rinsed me, and then did two more cuts before she did my cut and style! I didn’t get to Sapolil until nearly five. And when I did I looked like a Botox-injectee because she did my eyebrow wax last. I had dye all over my forehead (I still do, actually) and all the skin around my eyebrows was hot pink: this, I suspect, is probably not very rockstar.

But it was so worth it! I really needed my hair colored. It was three inches half dark brown (and silver! …okay, gray) at the roots, with weird washed-out red on the ends from my obnoxious box job from a couple of months ago. But now? It’s all a nice even color, fairly close to my natural one, with cute little highlights. Yay! Rockstars should definitely have nice hair.

The house was absolutely packed Saturday night, SRO even. The crowd was awesome; responsive and fun and supportive. (I felt extra-special because I had two aunts, two uncles, a boyfriend, and a co-worker there to hear me.) For the last set, I had a table full of admiring guys to my right, one of whom apparently plays cuts from my EP on his radio show every week. Rockstars totally get airplay!

I’m not sure we got enough good takes to make a live album, though. I haven’t heard the roughs so who knows… sometimes idiot mistakes and random trainwrecks – of which there were many (I myself fucked up Love For the Blues TWICE) – end up sounding brilliant. Honest. To quote Barefoot, some of the best takes are more “Whoops! I’m a genius” than the actual arrangements you intended to play.

During the show Teh BF ran the board and watched the recording software. I think he had fun.

After the gig, we did what we always do after the gig: we schlepped gear!

After the schlepping, K and I went around the corner to Vintage Cellars for a beer, and I spent an hour wedged into a love seat getting wine drunk with a couple of totally hawt babes who had been at Sapolil for the show. (There are hi-fucking-larious! photos of this pile of drunken women, but you can’t see them because they are Not For Public Viewing according to my partners in crime. Private party photos? Are extremely rockstar!)

After that since we hadn’t had a proper supper, K and I went and ate at Shari’s. (Jesus. No wonder I’m perfectly round.) Pudginess is not very rockstar, but it is pretty diva!

Sunday we slept in, woke up, got busy, got up, drank coffee, and then went to 4-year-old’s birthday party in Milton-Freewater. We gorged on pizza. (Jesus. No wonder I’m perfectly round.) When we could no longer stay awake, we went back to Kaje’s and watched Torchwood Declassified drowsily on the couch. I got dropped off at home around 7:30 and did a load of laundry while I packed my lunch for today. (I still love the bento even though I haven’t gotten around yet to making any hella cute shit yet. (Yes, I said ‘yet’ twice.) Although I think I feel some veggie sushi coming on. Sushi is totally rockstar. Even if it’s homemade.)

Today I rolled into work wearing 9-year-old jeans and a bulky sweater with Crocks, frizzy hair and no makeup. Because on Monday mornings? I’m a call center drone, and totally not a rockstar.

In Vino Veritas

Music, Social, , , , , ,

In which I do a gig I feel good about… and drink WAY too much wine.

Yesterday I came home on my lunch break and took a shower and put on jeans and cute shoes. After work I came home to drop Bindu off and smear on some mascara. By seven I was at the Sapolil Cellars tasting room on Main street. The joint was packed.

The owner hugged me and pointed to my co-worker, KJ, whom I’d invited to come. (He’d been sick earlier in the week so I didn’t think he’d show, but there he was.) I sat with him for a bit and then the gig started. He and I ended up hanging out all night and having a freakin’ blast, going to the sorts of events we wouldn’t normally go to. (As he said later, “I haven’t had this much fun in Walla Walla in years. It’s like we went to another town, man.”)

RB and Cookie played a couple of tunes, then I went up and joined them. We did a good, long set and then took a break. It was early enough that it was still light out. During our second set, we had a keyboardist and a harp player sit in, and people were dancing by the end. We even got called back for an encore. All in all, a good gig. And the cash money at the end didn’t hurt, either. (This band pays me. I love it.)

A., the owner’s daughter (whom I adore because she’s funny as hell), kept pouring me wine so by the time we left the joint around ten I’d probably downed at least an entire bottle if not significantly more. I prudently put my grandmother’s car in the garage and caught a ride with KJ. We followed A. to the Flying Trout tasting room. The wine there was served in beer cups instead of stemware, the crowd was younger, the decor was minimalist industrial basement, and the DJ utterly failed to impress me. I ran around drunk and friendly and probably annoyed the hell out of many innocent (read: less drunk) people.

The truth of wine being that I adore people when I’m wine drunk and love to accost them and talk to them about themselves, but I never shut up long enough for them to do so. Hah! It’s amazing nobody smacked me. Srsly. I had SO much fun!

There was a couple in the crowd dressed in snow suits. The guy had goggles on, and would push them up onto his forehead only when talking. I asked the girl why she’d decided to wear a snowsuit to a tasting room, and she said it just seemed like the thing to do. I met a skater dude in his late 40’s with tons of ink and got him to take his shirt off for me. I scattered two other conversation groups merely by approaching with my mouth running. I saw one of the chicks who works at the Starbucks I go to. I saw A., the chick we’d followed there, once.

After that it gets blurry. I bought some Cheetos at a convenience store at some point, but they were too gross to eat, and I could not now tell you what store it was. At one point I thought I’d lost my wallet but it was easily found in KJ’s car. I didn’t get to bed until the sky was beginning to pale in the east.

The first time I woke up today I didn’t dig it that much, so I went back to bed and didn’t really start my day until six in the evening! I called RB and apologized for not answering when he’d called earlier in the afternoon, checked in with Becca, tried to eat at Rosita’s (closed Sundays) and ended up with a 7-layer burrito and a huge raspberry iced tea. Went to RB’s, listened to a bunch of Wilson Pickett, and discussed our set list for next weekend at the Balloon Stampede. (We’ll be on the Pepsi stage from 5 to 6:30. Come see us.)

Now I’m home and the dogs are sleeping on the rug. I have a couple of episodes of Doctor Who to watch, and several movies to choose from. I think I’m gonna hold the couch down, lest it suddenly decide to float away, and rest up for tomorrow: I have to do laundry and mow the lawn.